A Queen of my Own
by Limmy2Lammy
Summary: 'Those who have ever ventured near have felt the cold tingle of fear upon their spine, and a sense of dread looming as they near the large iron door, adorned with intricate and detailed carvings... For this is the domain of the Iron Dragon and his Queen. ' A short one-shot based on an awe-inspiring piece of art by Poki-Grzyb on deviantART, titled 'A Queen of my Own' .


A Queen of my Own.

A calm breath upon the deathly calm midnight air, the thinnest of breezes upon the horizon, a painted and colored darkness. Even the brightest of homely and loving lights seemed distant and faded here, an sanctuary of darkness, an abyss of deadly solace.

A castle, set high among the shadowed peaks of a gargantuan cliff face, towering over the village of wood and stone far below, an abyssal guardian to those who would look up upon the seemingly ancient symbol of power. A symbol of _status. _Windows long shattered by war, crumbling and darkened stone walls, encasing the structure as if the gods themselves would strike at any being unworthy to enter this titan's refuge. Clouds seemingly haunted the skies above, swirling in the calm breeze of the warm night, the faintest shimmer of stars masked behind their cover.

To those who had never before stepped foot in this ancient and historic land, to those whose eyes had never witnessed the magic that legends speak of, this castle would appear naught but ruins, an ancient relic of a past long lost to the pages of history, abandoned in times of old and left to the mercy of time. But, any good-minded being who had stayed their fair share within this bastion of eery calm would tell a much different tale. They would look up from their windows, unto the ancient and crumbling castle walls atop the mighty cliff of stone as black as charcoal, their eyes would meet with that same deathly red glare.

Eyes as red as blood, as hollowed and cold as if they held the devil's tainted touch. Hair as black as the dead of night, addressed in a long, animalistic mane of wild, unkempt hair, marred by the fangs that gleamed in the sorrowful moonlight upon nights like these. Cloaked in black and silver, adorned with markings of a warrior, two swords sheathed upon his waist. A face forever morphed int a scowl, pierced with gleaming iron, adorning a glare as deadly as a vicious _dragon. _The _Guardian. _The _Protector._

_The dragon who guarded his hoard closely._

Wings of gleaming iron, a roar to be cascaded across a country, forever protecting his hoard. He would forever be there, be it the depths of night or the dreary and gray lights of morning, looking down on them, drowned in mystery and shadows. Power. Strength. Mystery. Cruel and hard determination. But, this was nay a dragon who guarded gold and precious gems, this was no dragon who fought off tempered and tested adventurers. His tale didn't reside in Fairy Tails and children's stories, no, instead, his tale resided with _her. _

_The Queen. _

The warrior's pride, the guardian's resolve, the protector's quest. The treasure sought out by those who deemed themselves 'adventurers', the source of knowledge for those who called themselves scholars. The source of power for those judged as mages. Nay, she belonged to no due cause, she held no one aspect, embodied not one form. The only title she held besides that of her own status was: _The dragon's hoard..._

The _iron dragon_...shrouded in shadows as dark as the Queen's, his place among the shadows of her throne, blood red eyes forever casting his mighty gaze upon the village far below them through the broken and shattered glass, his hand steady upon the hilt of his sword, an eternal iron guardian.

Deep within the winding maze of the Titan's refuge, hidden among the shattered glass and the crumbled and battle-worn stone, among the dry and crumbling pages, among the leather-bound books, sat her, _the Queen. _

Atop of crumbling throne, her foot rested upon ancient and powerful books, adorned in the dress and wrappings suited only for one of such power, crafted with the finest silks and velvets, embodied with the finest jewelery from across the lands. The _panther _sat across her lap, he too adorned with jewelry and weapons, a noble and hidden protector among the darkened shadows of this fortress of iron. Deep, mysterious and powerful hazel eyes, framed with the equally unkempt and wild blue hair, shadowed by the darkness of her titan's refuge, a woman whose reach extended deep into the darkness, whose power was only spoken of in scared and hushed whispers among nobles of distant lands. Least they receive a visit from the _Dragon. _

Even among the quiet and calm streets of the village far below, their own Queen remained a shrouded and enveloped mystery, a face never seen, only shadowed whispers of a name within the depths of hushed back alleys. Forever hidden among the towering walls and crumbling ruins of her own mighty Titan's refuge, safeguarded by her mighty iron dragon, forever protected by his powerful gaze.

The queen of a landed shrouded in darkness and mystery, holding a deep and mysterious power, forbidden and ancient magics, powerful tools of war. All shrouded by the mystery of this land, cloaked in an eternal cover of darkness, spreading fear like an infection throughout those who deem themselves 'outsiders', who feel naught but dread and fear underneath the blood red glare of the iron dragon. Villagers of a Queen shrouded in secrecy and shadows, who dare nay question their leaders, but accept the safety of the blood red glare upon the high windows of the ancient castle atop the gargantuan cliffs.

Not even the eery wails of the calm wind upon the broken windows stirred a noise among the seemingly dead castle, empty and bare walls and hallways moving through the expanse of rooms and plazas, until comes the light sound of breathing among the top floors, a door closed to world outside, but, nonetheless, a room that ebbed of power and eery hostility, where naught but the breathing of three individuals broke the overwhelming spell of silence, but, those who have ever ventured near have felt the cold tingle of fear upon their spine, and a sense of dread looming as they near the large iron door, adorned with intricate and detailed carvings...

For this is the domain of the Iron Dragon and his Queen.

OoOoOoOoOoO  
OoOoOoOoOoO

So, this short one-shot piece of fiction was inspired by a Miss 'Poki-Grzyb' on Deviant Art, and her piece called 'A queen of my own'. To say that this art gave me a level of inspiration I'm not sure I've experienced before is an understatement, this art is simply a must-see. And I usually rarely say that about such art, but, if I'm honest, all of Poki's art is of an amazing quality, but, the time and effort she put into 'A Queen of my Own' was above and beyond, and, I feel, was an accomplishment of prowess.

As for the story, I had an image in my head almost instantly of this towering, ancient castle atop cliffs, overlooking a cramped, but somewhat expansive, village down below, which is what I interpreted the lights in the middle right of the picture to be, not to mention the amazingness of the clouds. Poki tried to argue to me that they were 'bad' and 'not well done'. Well, here I am adressing this to everybody who reads that they're not. Such an amazing art, and such an amazing scene, I hope you like this, Poki!

Don't forget to review! It helps!


End file.
